


Communion

by Sue Corkill (mscorkill)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-27
Updated: 2012-03-27
Packaged: 2017-11-02 14:25:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/369983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mscorkill/pseuds/Sue%20Corkill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam has trouble sleeping after Shifu leaves the SGC.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Communion

**Author's Note:**

> Didn’t think I could find a Sam&Jack story in ‘Absolute Power’, but I did. 
> 
> Originally posted March 2001

COMMUNION

I roll over restlessly, unable to sleep. Shifu’s calm voice and deliberate words haunt me—the mind is always free. He seemed so utterly sure and confident as I strapped him into the chair. How could he tell that a part of me is imprisoned? Or was I only projecting my own discomfort at being back in that room…with that machine. I remember looking at the Colonel; his attention was wholly focused on the boy. If he was uncomfortable, he hid it well. But then, that’s what we do, hide our feelings. It’s how we’d gotten ourselves into this mess. I tried to catch his eye, but he ignored me.

As Aldwyn turned on the testing device, I couldn’t help but shiver slightly. That drew the Colonel’s attention, just a brief sideways glance, but I saw it. I also saw the slight stiffening of his stance—he wasn’t as untouched as he would have me believe. But then I knew that too. I tried to smile reassuringly at Shifu; amazingly, he smiled at me in return. It was at that moment that I realized that the test was unnecessary, that Shifu had told us the truth. He is Harcesis, and he cannot help us. I wonder again, how can his mind be free if he’s forced to suppress part of it? The arrival of Daniel and the subsequent departure of Shifu, though, interrupted my speculative train of thought.

I glance at the clock—0200. I get up then, albeit reluctantly, finally giving into my sleeplessness. I’m not sure why I chose to stay on base tonight, we’d been given forty-eight hours of downtime, but right now I’m glad. Instead of pacing in the confines of my apartment I can go to my lab. Pulling on my recently discarded fatigues, I check my reflection before leaving. I run a brush through my short hair and then fluff it with my fingers. Who’s going to see me? I frown back at the woman in the mirror; her pale skin and dark shadowed eyes mock me. I wonder what her subconscious mind would reveal now? Don’t go there Sam—go to your lab, I tell myself.

Leaving my quarters, I make my way down the quiet hallway, my steps slowing almost imperceptibly as I pass by his door. I wonder if he’s able to sleep…quickly pushing those thoughts aside, I take the stairs down the two flights to my lab. Unlocking the door, I enter the still room. I turn on the small lamp on the worktable, and running my fingers along the edge of the table, I slowly survey my world. The world I’ve chosen, the world that currently chooses for me. Chooses how I dress, how I wear my hair, how I love….

Once more forcing forbidden thoughts from my mind, I pull out my chair and sit down at the table, opening my laptop. I open the folder where I keep my personal mission notes. No time like the middle of the night to start on the most recent installment of my life. No, make that our lives. I laugh harshly, the sound startling in the quiet of my domain. Catching me by surprise, my laughter abruptly turns into tears. I lower my head on to the desk, and suddenly too tired to keep up the pretense, I give in to the despair that is my ever-present companion.

 

Lying on my bed in the dark room, I wish that I still smoked. Having a cigarette to drag on would definitely help the time pass a bit more quickly. As it is, my mind is occupied in the fruitless task of replaying the events of the day, hell, the events of the past few months. The kid’s words ricochet around in my brain, the true nature of a man…. I always thought I knew my true nature, had myself fairly well pegged. Career Air Force, Special Ops, the one you call to go that extra mile. Not crazy, mind you, but willing to push the envelope. All right, hell, been known to tear said envelope to bits. But still, I would have maintained that I knew myself. Even in those dark days after Charlie’s death I looked my demons straight in the face—and generally ran the other way. If you had asked anyone to describe me, I would have dared him or her to say I’m not a totally honest kind of guy. All right, except for those times when I was involved in some covert mission. Okay, so maybe I’m not always up front with those around me, however I have always maintained that I’m honest with myself. Well, at least since the aftermath of the first Abydos mission.

So, if I’m so honest with myself, how did my subconscious pull such a fast one on me? Evidently my subconscious mind was winning the battle. Or maybe losing…. Hell, either way, I’m the loser here. In the nighttime quiet of the base, I hear a door open a short distance away. Soft footsteps go past my door, and then the sound of the stairwell door opening. I recognize the footsteps and I know who the other sleepless person is—my Major, my Sam.

I roll the words over and over in my brain, my Sam. I know it sounds incredibly possessive and, well, male…but that’s how I think of her, as mine. And I know she’s been as affected by the events of the day as I have. I check my watch, 0215. She probably went to her lab. I get up and pull on my fatigues. I don’t bother checking my reflection, just run my fingers through my short hair. It’s not like I need to impress her…. I quietly open my door and step out into the hallway, not wanting to disturb anyone else who may have decided to stay on base for the night. I take the stairs as well, and moments later I’m outside her lab. The door’s closed. "Carter?"

 

At the sound of the door opening and the Colonel’s voice, I quickly lift my head up out of my arms. I rub my eyes, trying to wipe away the evidence of my tears, fumbling in my pocket for a tissue. "Yes, sir?" I manage as he comes in, standing just inside the door, a wary look on his face, as if he’s not sure of his welcome. I attempt a smile, but know it doesn’t reach my eyes. "Couldn’t sleep?" I finally ask.

He advances further into the room, his eyes darting about until they finally rest on my worktable. He reaches out and picks up a pencil, twirling it in his fingers. He seems to relax a bit then, and propping his hip on the edge of the desk eventually replies to my question. "Yeah, couldn’t sleep."

I’m at a disadvantage and have to crane my neck to look at him. He’s looking at the pencil though, not me. After a few moments of silence he continues. "Heard you walk by," he looks at me then, his eyes veiled. "Thought we could not sleep together."

I look at him sharply. Is there a hidden meaning in that statement? Is he trying to tell me something? At the very least, he seems to be reaching out. I reach back…. "I can’t stop thinking about Shifu, about what happened," I confess softly.

"About what happened?" he questions cautiously. "Or what he said?" How does he do that, read my mind? Am I that transparent? Or maybe he knows me too well. I don’t answer him; I look away, my attention suddenly riveted by the words on my computer screen. I hear him shift, then sigh. "What do you say we blow this pop stand?"

I look at him then, his face unsmiling, but his eyes hold a glimmer of hope. "Okay." I close down the laptop and follow him out of the lab. We don’t speak as we retrace our steps to our quarters. He meets me outside my door, wearing his brown leather bomber jacket. I pull on my jacket as we walk down the hallway and wait, in silence, by the elevator.

 

I glance at the silent woman next to me. We made our escape from the SGC and, in unspoken agreement, headed to my jeep. We’re nearly halfway down the mountain when she leans closer to me and reaching out, rests her left hand on my thigh. Relief courses through me and as soon as we’re on the main highway, I cover her hand with one of my own. Thirty minutes later I pull into my driveway. I get out and then go around and open the door for Sam. Her clear blue eyes, illuminated by the dim interior light, search mine before she takes my outstretched hand. I lead her to the door and then inside the darkened house. Only then do I let go of her hand as I turn on a lamp. I turn and watch as she shrugs out of her jacket and lays it on the closest chair. She shivers a bit in the chill of the house, and then settles herself on the sofa.

I cross over to the fireplace and kneeling down, begin putting logs and kindling in the grate. Once I get the fire burning briskly, I rise and remove my own jacket. Sam watches me from the corner of the sofa as I turn off the lamp and then take my place next to her. I cautiously place my arm around her and am gratified by the sound of her soft sigh as I feel her relax into my embrace. I watch the flickering play of light from the fire; enjoying the feel of Sam’s soft body next to mine, the subtle rise and fall of her breasts as she breathes and the sweet weight of her head nestled on my shoulder.

"Jack." Her soft voice breaks into the quiet intimacy of my living room. My heart starts beating faster at the sound of my name on her lips. I tighten my arm about her, pulling her closer as she continues. "I’m tired of fighting this." She tilts her head up and back to look at me, her eyes serious. "I want to be free, and the only way that can happen is if my conscious and subconscious mind can exist in harmony." She stares at me for a moment longer, then breaks into a bitter sounding laugh, all the more alarming due to the slight edge of hysteria I can hear creeping in. "Oh god, did I really just say that?" She pulls free of my arm and, sagging, puts her head in her hands groaning softly. "What a crock of bullshit—I think way too much."

"Sam," I start cautiously. She looks up from her hands then, her shadowed eyes meeting mine. "I…" my voice trails off, suddenly unsure of how to respond. Tell her the truth, tell her how you feel, I goad myself. I close my eyes briefly, and when I reopen them, her luminous blue eyes search mine intently, looking for an answer. As my silence overwhelms the quiet of the room, all I can do is wonder what has happened to my great honesty when I find myself unable to tell this woman that I care for her more than I ever thought possible.

I watch helplessly as she closes her eyes; her face crumpling slightly as my silence drags on. When she opens them again, her expression is closed. "Just forget it, sir." She jumps up then, startling me. Grabbing her coat off the chair, she crosses swiftly to the door. Once there, she pauses, and with her back to me I can just hear the pleading note in her voice as she asks, "Will you take me home, please?"

 

He hasn’t moved, or spoken anything, but those last two words since my near-hysterical outburst. I stand uncertainly facing the door, then reluctantly turn and ask him wearily, "Please, Jack?" The tension and stress of the past few months have all come to a head, for me, with our return to ‘the room’. I’m suddenly exhausted and not at all sure about what I had hoped would happen. All I had wanted was for us to talk and now he’s got me wondering why the hell he brought me here in the first place. Maybe he figured we’d have a quick roll between the sheets, work it out of our systems. Yeah, right….

The silence grows, seeming to mirror the widening gap between us. I can hear the first stirrings of the birds outside, the tentative chirps as dawn approaches. We stare at each other across the room, until he finally speaks. "Is that what you really want?" I can’t see his face clearly in the flickering light. "To go home?"

God, I can’t believe the man! He is so exasperating. I rub my eyes tiredly and sag against the door. I tilt my head back against the cool wood surface and sigh. "No Jack, it’s not what I want." I look at him intently. "What I want to do is talk." I gesture towards him, "But I don’t want to be the only one doing the talking." Again, he doesn’t say anything, just continues to stare at me with those hooded eyes. I turn abruptly. "Just forget it," I mutter as I fumble with the door handle. I manage to turn the deadbolt and have just started to open the door when I sense movement behind me. The next thing I know, I feel the heat and pressure of Jack’s body against mine, forcing me up against the door. His right hand comes up by my head and presses the door shut. The latch catches, the sound ominous in the quiet room. He doesn’t move; I let my hand fall from the doorknob and I turn my head slightly, closing my eyes and resting my suddenly flushed cheek against the cool wood. I hear his ragged breathing and feel his hot breath on my neck. I take several steadying breaths, trying to control the slight panic I feel developing by his unexpected closeness. His larger frame overwhelms me as he places a hand on the door at either side of my shoulders, his chest and hips pressing into my back and bottom. "Jack…"

I shiver as I feel his lips at my ear. "Quiet," he instructs, his voice harsh. "You wanted me to talk, so listen." I close my eyes and relax slightly then. I can feel an answering echo from him as he shifts subtly closer, his breath brushing against my ear as he speaks. "If I don’t talk, I don’t have to deal. That was what you wanted, wasn’t it?" I nod my head slightly in confirmation, keeping my eyes closed. I feel his nose nuzzle my neck then, my hairline, and then the soft brush of his lips as he continues. "And now you want to change the rules all because of what the kid said."

"Jack…" I try to interrupt, explain, but he eases more of his weight against me, pressing me harder against the door. The seductive feel of his body against mine is undermining my resolve. I take a deep breath, which only serves to make me more aware of him.

"Shh…" he whispers at my ear. I moan softly as he catches the lobe between his teeth, sucking at the tender flesh for a moment before continuing. "It has to be one way or the other, Sam." His left hand trails down the door then, until it comes in contact with my left hand, still clutching my jacket. He grabs the jacket, tugging it out of my hand and tossing it aside. His hand closes around mine, and palm-to-palm, he threads his fingers through mine. "Either it stays locked up and we deny it or we let it free."

He’s right, I silently acknowledge. It’s what I had already decided. Better question though, we’re back to what has Jack decided? From the feel of his hips against mine, I think I have a pretty good idea of what his body wants, but what about his mind?

 

Her lithe body is tense beneath mine as she weighs my words. I take a deep breath; she shifts unconsciously at my movement. I settle myself a bit more firmly against her, letting my free hand come to rest on her shoulder and I can’t help but wonder if she’s noticed my developing arousal. I know what I want, and I’m pretty sure Sam wants the same thing—that she wants me as much as I want her. That she needs me as much as I need her. So, tell her Jack, I order myself. "Sam," I murmur hoarsely in her ear, my breath ruffling her hair. She becomes still; I can barely feel her breathing. I inhale deeply; filling my senses with that scent that is uniquely hers. "Sam," I start again, an unaccustomed fear filling me. "I want you. Hell, I need you." She exhales sharply, a soft cry breaking from her lips at my softly worded confession.

"Wait," I breathe against her cheek, before she can reply, my lips just brushing her smooth skin. "Once we start, there’s no going back." I warn her, needing her to acknowledge the reality of our situation.

"I understand," she murmurs. "I’ll do whatever it takes." With her whispered words, I feel a sudden easing of the tightness in my gut. I release her hand and swiftly turn her around, then force her back up against the door again. I insinuate one of my legs between hers as I settle my hips firmly against her. I rest one hand gently on her hip, letting the other leave her shoulder and slowly glide up her neck in a soft caress. I stare enthralled at the combined expressions of love and lust in her translucent blue eyes. She meets my gaze head on, not hiding anything. I feel her hands at my waist, tentative at first, and then more confident as one works it’s way under my T-shirt, finding that sensitive spot in the small of my back. I can’t help but flash her a grin then and she rewards me with a blinding smile. With that image in my mind, I lean closer and closing my eyes, find her lips with mine.

 

I sigh softly, allowing myself to relax against him as I open my mouth to his questing tongue. Tentatively at first, and then with increasing confidence, I respond, returning his gentle caresses. One of his arms has somehow worked itself between my back and the door, the fingers of his other hand thread through my hair, as he takes the kiss even deeper. Lost in the sensations aroused by the mating of our tongues, when he suddenly pulls away, I follow blinding, whimpering softly. His hand tightens in my hair and he tugs slightly, pulling my head back. Reluctantly, I open my eyes. Once I can focus, I see he’s on the verge of losing control, but he still asks, his voice rough, "Sam, are you sure?"

I slowly smile. Silly man, I think lovingly. I bring my hand up, gently caressing his face, smoothing away his frown lines. "I think I already answered that question." But I understand his seeming reluctance, if this goes any further, it all changes. But then, it already has. I can feel a shifting in my world and vow that no matter what; we will see this through.

He grins, managing to look sexy and abashed at the same time. "Yes, ma’am," he responds smartly, bringing his mouth back down to mine. I slip my arms around him, pulling him even closer, relishing once more in the press of his firm body against mine while he begins trailing a path of wet kisses down my neck. I grip him tighter, my knees turning to mush as his talented fingers begin a leisurely foray under my shirt. I sigh softly and I know I’m thinking way too much...just as I know we’re taking a big risk...and not only because of the threat of the ever-present regulations that hang over us. No, we’re taking a risk that the acknowledgement and expression of our love will give us the freedom to find peace within each other’s arms. I told him I would do whatever it takes to make this work and now I hope that all I need to make it happen is the understanding that we are free.

THE END


End file.
